


Dancing Around the Truth

by BelleRed20



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleRed20/pseuds/BelleRed20
Summary: She walks into the room and scans her surroundings before stepping down the stairs onto the dance floor. Bellamy is glued to his spot by the bar. His heart starts to frantically race in succession with the music. He has seen many sides of Clarke but this woman in front of him, this free-flowing being swaying her hips to the sound of the music with abandon is something very different. And oh, so hot. So achingly hot.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Kudos: 32





	Dancing Around the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 6x04 the Face Behind the Glass
> 
> The episode where Bellamy wishes he was the one to dance with Clarke! In this fix it of sorts he gets too! :)

Dancing around the Truth 

It was a time of celebration in Sanctum. It seemed that every single Sanctumite in this place wished to unburden themselves in one way or another, apologizing for evil wrongs that were done, seeking forgiveness for their sins and confessing their deepest regrets. That was clearly the theme of the week. Speak your truth, find your peace, but always keep in mind “the glory and the grace of the Primes.” Bellamy knows that Clarke and him need to address some of their own issues, so when that moment fell upon them earlier that day Bellamy was more than receptive. In the spirit of celebration they tied their ‘sins’ to a floating lantern and made amends. Clarke apologized for leaving him in the fighting pits and Bellamy fully accepted her apology with open arms. They embraced for the first time in what felt like ages. In the back of his mind she was already forgiven but it was nice to hear her say the words. He was lighter and happier after their much needed ‘talk’ and he finally felt like they were making some progress. She told him he was her family too. And she would never forget that again. 

The celebrating continued on into the night. Bellamy had been wrestling with competing emotions the entire day. He still felt remorse for leaving his sister and he was still not sure that dancing in a loud club would make him feel any better. The others had to practically drag him over to this lame Naming Day Party. Upon entering the club the beat was thrumming. It was pounding and pulsing in his ears which was quickly adding to the built up tension behind the base of his skull. There were couples on the dance floor grinding and gyrating against one another. Maybe he should just turn around and leave. Bellamy was not in the mood for any of this tonight. He had been at the dance party no longer than three minutes and he was already regretting wearing this dark jacket. He was starting to sweat, a sheen of perspiration was prickling at his temples. Why did he let the others persuade him to come out tonight? 

But everything changes in a heartbeat when he sees her walk in. That’s when Bellamy’s carefully constructed control all but vanishes. He gapes, he stares, and he honestly can’t help himself from reacting to her every move. His eyes rake over her form languidly. Clarke looks absolutely stunning. It’s so ungentlemanly of him to stare but she’s wearing this dark blue sheer dress that showcases a plunging neckline. She has a sparkling golden necklace that hangs fluidly between her cleavage. She walks into the room and scans her surroundings before stepping down the stairs onto the dance floor. Bellamy is glued to his spot by the bar. His heart starts to frantically race in succession with the music. He has seen many sides of Clarke but this woman in front of him, this free-flowing being swaying her hips to the sound of the music with abandon is something very different. And oh, so hot. So achingly hot. 

Alcohol. He needs more alcohol. Bellamy takes a giant gulp of his drink, feels the alcohol burn down his throat. But he definitely needs more, a lot more if he’s going to survive this night. He won’t survive with Clarke Griffin looking like a literal goddess. She is absolutely flawless, her long legs, pale skin, and luscious curves are something to behold. He can’t help but watch her every move. She makes her way across the floor towards the bar. His eyes are transfixed on hers. He takes another swig of his drink, nearly finishing it. He notices her eyes land on someone else’s from across the room. She is distracted by another admirer that is making his way towards her from across the dance floor. Bellamy instantly sees red. The jealousy sets in. It stings in all the wrong places he wishes it didn’t. For all the times Bellamy has played off not caring for Clarke it regrettably isn’t remotely the truth. Clarke means everything to him. It makes his blood boil that someone else is giving her the attention that he wishes he could give her. It really isn’t fair of Bellamy to act this way when he is currently with someone else. He has a girlfriend, he is with Echo. But deep down he knows it’s not right. They don’t belong together. He needs to tell her this, and soon. They need to end things amicably. 

Bellamy knows he is not being true to his heart. He breathes deep through his nostrils into his next swig of alcohol. He needs to get a grip and fast. He needs to also face the real reason as to why seeing Clarke with another man makes him so angry. Why it's currently breaking his heart into tiny pieces. 

He wants Clarke. He needs Clarke. He wants to dance with Clarke.

She knows how devastatingly beautiful she looks when she turns around towards the mirror, she really does clean up nice. She is more than ready to let loose and have a little fun. She takes one last turn in her dress before she heads out for the night. When she arrives at the party the dance floor is packed with couples dancing and having a good time. The room is filled with a hazy thick smoke and the base of the music is making the veins in her neck pulse. This is exactly what she needed. She needed some reprieve from everything that was going on. She needed to let go of some things she was currently holding onto. She immediately sees Bellamy posted up at the bar when she walks through the door. Every corner she rounds his eyes are on her, watching her from afar. She hoped his gaze was traveling down her body slowly following the curve of her behind. It wasn’t something Clarke would ever dare tell him but she had a scenario like this in mind when she stepped into the flowing fabric that night. She wanted his attention. She wanted him to see her. 

She was swaying with the beat as her eyes pierced his own. She was so tired of holding in the stress of the day. She just wanted to feel free. Just then Cillian comes face to face with her and holds out his hands for her to take. Clarke was a little caught off guard by his approach. He is suddenly pulling her towards the dance floor before she has a chance to say anything else, “No...no...no” she pleads. But she lets him take the lead. She smiles and laughs awkwardly to herself. She really wants to dance tonight, but what she really wants is to dance with another man who is her so-called ‘best friend.’ Clarke’s eyes land on Bellamy’s once again. She kind of wants him to see her dance with Cillian. She wants him to watch her as they move to the rhythm together. She throws both arms around Cillian’s neck half haphazardly. Clarke wants to see the kind of jealousy she feels. There have been numerous times in the past that she felt the exact same thing staring back at him and Echo. By the repulsed and seething look plastered across his face she knows he is affected by their dancing. Bellamy glares at the back of the man’s head, she’s fairly certain he feels the exact same. She is challenging him to do something. She watches him roll his eyes and take another sip of his drink. Clarke continues to dance with Cillian. She is just showing off now. Twirling and moving around the dance floor with abandon. 

Then the thought strikes her, “why is she noticing and craving his attention?” That is still a serious issue Clarke needed to ask herself. Clearly they mean more to one another than they both want to admit. It makes her cheeks burn with the knowledge that there might be something more they should do with their relationship. She knows deep down it is more, so much more. She wants him and she wants them. She craves his approval and attention. She only wants his eyes on her. Nobody else at this dance party matters. She wants him to make a move, make a move for her. Be with me. YOU want me! Clarke inwardly screams. Honestly, she thinks to herself as she twirls around the dance floor, “who does this Cillian guy think he is?” For starters Clarke definitely must have a type. He almost resembles Bellamy to a tee. He has dark hair, a ruggishly thick beard, and smoldering eyes. An even bigger issue of contention is why she kind of likes this possessive side of Bellamy. She doesn’t even have one drop of alcohol in her system and yet she is feeling braver and lighter than she has in quite some time. Clarke decides to carry on with her outlandish behavior, and why shouldn’t she? She wants to be carefree and not in charge for once, free of any responsibility. There were some serious things that happened earlier today between her and Bellamy. One of which still has her heart beating a confused rhythm in her chest. 

They are finally back on good terms. They both apologized for some things that happened in the past. Things that have haunted more of her nights than she wishes to freely admit. Now that Clarke has addressed the two ton elephant on her chest, leaving him in the fighting pits she feels better about where they stand. Bellamy looks downright handsome tonight. He is wearing his dark jacket, black undershirt and dark jeans. He has one elbow propped up against the corner of the bar with a glass to his lips just staring in her direction. The anger in his pupils would be intimidating if she wasn’t currently drowning in their depths. She spins in Cillian’s arms and chances a look in his direction again while she gyrates against him. He is blatantly staring back at her. She sees the jealousy painted across his forehead and in his eyes. Clarke can’t help but move her body in a way that showcases her best assets. Bellamy is definitely checking out her body as she moves to the music. She’s dancing for him. He knows it. She knows it. 

Clarke and Bellamy have these walls, unspoken rules, and never to be acknowledged desires. Bellamy is staring longingly in her direction but his patience was currently wearing thin. It was killing him to sit there and do nothing. Just then Clarke spins in Cillian’s arms and sees Echo walk in from the top of the stairs. She is making her way towards Bellamy with a look of determination in her eyes. Echo approaches him abruptly interrupting his current ogling session over Clarke. Bellamy lets out a sigh he doesn’t know he was holding in. He can’t handle this situation anymore. Why is Echo making him even angrier? He doesn’t really want to face his problems. And they certainly have their fair share of problems. He doesn’t want to be standing here watching the love of his life dance with another man. He just wants to leave. But Echo wants some answers. She deserves some answers. She wants to know why he is acting so erratic and moody. 

“Hey what’s wrong?” she asks worriedly. 

“So, the last time I was at a party my sister was arrested,” he states. This is an outright lie. He knows it.This wasn’t the reason for his misplaced anger. 

“Bellamy, if you’re gonna tear yourself apart for leaving her, let’s go get her” she relents. 

“No, this isn’t me tearing myself apart, okay? This is me being human--feeling things when people I love are in trouble or die. The Echo I knew on the ring did that. Why don’t you?” he bites back harshly. 

“This isn’t about me!” Echo responds back angrily.

“No? We lost Monty and Harper three days ago. How do you feel about that? Because I have no idea. I lost my sister yesterday. It’s gonna take me a little while to feel nothing, like a good Azgeda spy. But I’ll keep trying” he lashes out sarcastically. Echo walks away flabbergasted by his outburst and behavior. He definitely deserves that reaction. Why can’t he just tell her the truth. Admit to her that he doesn’t have feelings for her anymore and he wants ….no needs...someone else. He is suddenly and completely over this entire dancing bullshit. 

He just wants to leave and go home. Fuck this Unity Day party and fuck the people of Sanctum. This was a dumb idea coming here tonight. Bellamy makes the decision to grab one more drink before he heads home. He can’t honestly take any more of this torture. Just then his body collides with someone else’s. “Oh, I’m sooorrrrry” he whispers. Just then he realizes it is none other than Clarke that he had collided with. It sends a shiver of raw need coursing through his veins. For a brief moment he closes his eyes to collect himself. Why does he have the sudden urge to break down and cry right now? What kind of disgusting liquor are in those drinks? Keep it together Blake. Keep your shit together. 

She puts a firm hand to his shoulder and starts to sway with the upbeat vocals over the speakers. “You're leaving?” Clarke asks questioningly. “Uh, yea I think so” he says back. Bellamy is all too enraptured by her body being so close to his, a little bit drunk on the steamy contact of being this close to her. The distance she puts between them has suddenly disappeared and he feels nothing but skin and heat and he can almost taste her. She is moving in close to him. “What does it matter to you Clarke?” he finally stammers out. “What happened to your dance partner?” he says un-amused. She waves a hand near the bar quickly.”Oh he ran off somewhere around here” she states. “Why don’t we go get that drink you owe me” she says with a shy smile only she ever lets him see. She places a hand to his chest once again and there is no way in hell Bellamy will be leaving this club right now. He is sure she can feel the thundering beat of his own heart underneath her hands. Clarke is smiling at him, her mouth quirked sideways in amusement, and he realizes suddenly that she’s enjoying this too. As they reach the bar, Bellamy accidentally missteps and winds up crushing her up against the bar a little too hard. The movement causes Clarke to drop her head forward and push her hips back against his own involuntarily. His lips lean in towards the small of her back as the bartender walks over to them. “Sorry Clarke, maybe I’ve already had one too many” Bellamy says jokingly. 

Clarke closes her eyes at the brief contact. “Two liquid courage shots for me and my...friend,” Clarke tells the bartender, “And keep them coming” she says. Bellamy can’t stop himself from wanting to touch her. He trails his finger softly down the center of her neck line to the exposed flesh of her middle back. She shivers at the contact. He can’t believe she hasn’t stopped him yet. She keeps her back turned against him and moves in closer to his chest. The press of his obvious arousal against her lower buttocks causes her to instinctively move forward. But upon realizing that fact she is dropping back into his lap and pressing in firmly. She places the back of her head to his shoulder in the confined space near the front of the bar where hordes of people are waiting for their drinks and shots. And then Clarke backs up against him even further. Bellamy has to take a deep breath at the feel of her body being so close to his. This is something they would never do in any other circumstance. They wouldn’t be this close. They would not be touching like this. The alcohol must be working in his favor to blur the designated lines of their ‘friendship’. But then Clarke grabs the back of his hand and locks her fingers around his. She forces his fingers to spread out across her lower belly. She wants him to touch her. Bellamy groans in her ear softly. “Are you having a good time Clarke?” he lets out roughly. “Yes, for once I am actually enjoying myself” she truthfully states. She keeps her hand around his on her stomach swaying to the beat of the music. The hard edge of her shoe runs up the inside of his pant leg. “I would have thought this moment would have played out any number of times,” she teases him. “You and I are finally getting drinks together” she smiles back shyly.

“It’s perhaps not quite the same in reality,” he states. 

“Why, is this all too much for you Bellamy?” she retorts back curiously. 

“Or not enough,” he says back in a stupid slip of the tongue- a moment of brutal honesty. 

Clarke turns in his arms so she is facing him. Her face is a lovely shade of crimson red. Their eyes lock on each other. Why did he have to say that? He inwardly berates himself. She bites her lip slowly unsure of what to say back to him. But then she slides her body against him and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Clearly she is done with any type of hesitation because her hands haven’t stopped moving over his chest and shoulders. She is smoothing her hands over the muscles of his chest and it’s making him feel things. She keeps touching him. 

He has the urge to tangle his hands in her hair, to feel what it’s like to hold her within his palms, to dig his fingers into her hips. He can’t help the shock inducing visions of running his hands up the sides of her thighs to disappear under her dress. He closes his eyes and his brain almost shuts down at the realization that Clarke still isn’t stopping her movements. She is still slowly dancing against him. God he wants her. He wants her so badly. Wants to press her into the wall and kiss her until she can do nothing but moan into his mouth. He is past the point of being able to play act with her. The thought of dancing with her, at least the way her body is suggesting right now is not even close to being remotely acceptable for the two of them. They never do things like this. It’s becoming excruciating- this stupid dance. He aches with arousal and he hates that she can reduce him down to this abysmal mess of a human. The truth is he would happily turn up each day and be her good little Knight; help her solve all the world's problems and stand by her side as she brings absolute chaos and destruction to her enemies. He would do anything for Clarke. He respects the wall she has built around her heart and he accepts that she maybe is not ready for anything more. But it doesn’t mean he is unaffected by her, and pressed together on this strobe lit dance floor has him feeling things that he shouldn’t be. Seriously big things like love, marriage, even babies...

“Here, this one is yours” Clarke says holding up a shot glass to his lips. He takes it from her grasp. They both slam their shots in one fluid motion. Clarke coughs lightly. “Ugh, maybe next time we don’t take liquid courage” she muses. The sporadic feel of hard alcohol hitting his system leaves burning trails of desire in its wake that leave them both a little dizzy. She hears him say her name on a breath and she feels the deep desire bloom to the tips of her toes. Her arms are above her head now swinging to the beat of the music overhead when she turns in his arms again. Bellamy laughs audibly. He is smiling from ear to ear. “Dance with me Bellamy” Clarke whispers. She puts her arms around his neck and comes in closer towards him. They slowly start to rock against each other. She is staring into his eyes willing him to make a move. He loops his hands around the curve of her waist, molding her form against him. Clarke's breath swirls against his jawline as she nuzzles her nose near the shell of his ear. “I saw you and Echo talking tonight, are you guys okay?” she finally gets out. 

Bellamy tries to hold his composure as Clarke’s hair wisps across his face. The smell of vanilla wreaking havoc with his senses. “Everything is not okay Clarke,” he states as she starts to take them further out on the dance floor. He can’t help but stare longingly in her direction as she holds her hand out for him to take it. “Well let’s dance then,” she says. She stops and gives him a downright heart stopping smile but he also suspects that she is just as turned on and affected at this point as he is. “Just move and forget about all the bad things,” she whispers to him. They just don’t do this sort of thing. They don’t toe this line. They don’t drink together. They don’t dance. And they certainly don’t discuss ‘them.’ He watched her flirt earlier tonight from his place at the bar. He was so damn jealous and now the tide has turned in his favor. She is good at flirting and it doesn’t take her long to close in on what she wants. Who in their right mind wouldn’t dance with this woman? Bellamy felt the bile rise as he watched Cillian undress her with his eyes. He stood by as he touched her body. He had to slam down his drink before he shattered the glass. “What happened to Mr. Loverboy?” he remarks. He was wondering where that man had disappeared to? Who leaves a woman like Clarke. “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were jealous?” she replies back smugly. 

Bellamy knows she is right.

“What if I told you that I was?” he responds. Well damn that liquid courage was really kicking in. Bellamy can see Clarke’s lower lip and chin start to tremble. He thinks he went too far that she will turn around and run out of this party. But, to his surprise she stays put. “I want you to know I’m listening” she replies softly. Somehow he ends up following her back to the corner of the dance floor, her legs are still moving and swaying to the music. Then she is slinking closer to him, shifting towards his body merely a breath away from him. Not helping. She runs a hand through her hair, and he can’t miss the line of her neck, the perfect place to just barely kiss her skin, trail up the column of her throat, feel her gasp as she- she’s coming in closer, closer, so close. Oh god is she going to- but she bypasses his mouth, goes straight for his ear. “Just hold me tighter Bellamy” she whispers. Her right hand grazes the stubble on his beard. There is no possible way that she can mean what he thinks she means, but when Clarke tells him to touch her there is no universe in which he’s going to say no. He grabs a hold of her hips and encompasses her body. “That’s so much better,” he thinks he hears her say, and then she’s rolling her hips against his in earnest and there’s no way he can’t thrust back, sink his head and worry the sharp edge of her collarbone with his teeth and tongue as her fingers flex against his neck, clutch at his hair. He’s got one hand on her leg and he can’t help himself, he is sliding his palm over her blue material clad thigh going higher near the junction of her sex. He presses his palm into her. He can feel her moan under her breath. Bellamy can feel the heat and the lithe power of her strong muscles against him. Her dress is riding up higher as they dance in sync. Bellamy is sweating profusely, he is too hot. He has sweat dripping down his back now. He needs to take off his jacket and roll up his sleeves or he might pass out. 

When his hands slide up her rib-cage he leans in close to her ear, “Clarke I have to take my jacket off... I'm hot as hell. Clarke laughs loudly, “Yeeees you are” she replies. But by the look in her eyes he can tell she means it. Bellamy sheds his jacket and places it over a chair in the corner of the room. “How are you feeling?” he says upon his return. She moves in close and he places his hands around her middle once again. “I’m feeling really good,” she smiles brightly. Bellamy smiles and laughs back in her direction happily. When his fingertips slip just under the swell of her breast she lets out this high-pitched moan that goes straight through him because it’s the kind of noise she should be making in his bedroom while she’s under him, not in this dark steamy club just feet away from another couple who are definitely doing just that. There are people watching them at this point but she doesn’t seem to care and that’s just so- her hips rock into his roughly again and the weight between his legs is getting uncomfortable and there’s no way she can’t feel it and if this doesn’t stop soon it is going to get seriously embarrassing for him. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” she ducks her head backwards and drops her chin so that her cheekbone bumps against his and when she talks her lips brush the outside of his ear. “I am really really turned on right now” she says. Those liquid courage shots must have gone straight to her brain. What was she saying?

“You are?” Bellamy stutters back on a breathy moan. She has already said what she said so she might as well be honest, “I really want you to touch me Bellamy” she says on a breathy exhale. It was the truth. Clarke was so turned on it was becoming painful. 

“Clarke?” Bellamy has to swallow down the heart that has now leapt straight into his throat. He coughs lightly. “What are you saying right now?” Bellamy all of the sudden can’t get enough air into his lungs. “Let’s go further towards the back of the dance floor” her voice trails off into a breathy moan as he sucks hard at a spot just behind her ear, pressing her back against himself a little tighter. Her nails dig into his arm hair and her breath is hot on his skin as he feels her tensing. Her thighs are grinding into the front of his legs as she squirms and tries to take a breath. A brief and short ”Ohh” escapes her lips and vibrates into his chest. Her body is getting more and more wild, tightening against him, rocking into him with these tiny thrusts of her hips while she gasps, and if he didn’t know better he’d swear Clarke is about to- “Yea..yes..Jesus Clarke!” Bellamy coughs- “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he obliges. Her fingers curl around his ear to tug his head down to her neck, and he thinks he should slow down or stop or something but he can only growl a quick “okay?” (Still Allowed?) he wants to say, but it’s too many syllables and she might not understand anyway. Bellamy can’t help tilting in, using his tongue to lave over her throat when he hears her say, “Now Bell...please” her voice rough and pleading. They are moving in unison to the back of the club where it was dark and more concealed, the music was still thrumming in their ears. But people wouldn’t be able to see what they were about to do back here. 

In an instant he has her pressed up against the wall. And then he feels her hands on his shoulders and she’s bracing herself, pushing up as she wraps her other leg around his waist, her thighs tightening into a hot firm vice around his hips. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and he can feel the subtle tensing of muscles under his fingertips. She knows exactly what he’s going to do. But telling him to stop would be the wrong move at this point. She got herself into this mess and she is too far gone to take it back. And the truth was Clarke didn’t want to stop. And she seems to take it as a challenge to wait him out. Like she thinks she’s ever going to win the game of playing chicken. If Bellamy wanted to stop she would have no questions, she would stop. But he wants this just as much as she does. He inches his fingers up underneath her dress, biting back a smug grin she can feel on his facial features with her fingertips. Her face is flushed, even in the dim light of this darkened night club, and she tries to glare at him but fails miserably. The lights are flashing back and forth illuminating their features at times. “Bellamy, just remember we are still in public,” she whispers, but there’s just enough air in her voice that he knows she’s not really pissed or mad and equally wants what they are about to do. 

“So, be very quiet Clarke. I’ve got you,” he says. 

His touch ignites a spark, fire blooming on her skin in the wake of his touch. God, she needs him. It has been so long since anyone has touched her like this.”I’ve wanted to do this for so long” she reveals, waving an arm between the two of them touching Bellamy on his upper back. She cannot, will surely explode from want if he doesn’t do something about the throbbing ache that has taken up permanent residence between her thighs. She shifts enough to get a hand in between them, palming the length of his erection through his pants. His breath hitches and then stutters on an exhale, his eyes snapping up to hers, dark and hungry. The exact reaction she was looking for. Her eyelashes flutter, her lips parting, and for a second he thinks she’s going to push him away. He moves his hand further up her dress. But she bites her lip, takes a long breath, and doesn’t stop him. When his fingers hit lace instead of smooth skin, she actually squirms, her hands faltering, and he thinks okay now she’s going to stop him, she has to, there’s no way she’s going to let him- and then Clarke reaches underneath her dress for his hand and grabs his wrist. She pushes his hands into her sex in one fluid motion. He slips a finger inside of her and strokes her lewdly. Clarke presses her fingers to his lips, her eyes flickering shut, a deep flush spreading over her collarbone. He pumps one finger inside of her slowly and watches as her face goes slack, that bliss-ed-out look of pure pleasure, and fuck, this started out as a game, but now he’s actually fingering her in the middle of a crowded dance floor, and if anyone catches them- before he can figure out what to do next she asking for more. “Bell faster...I’m so close” she pants. He rubs her faster and harder, alternating between going across her nub and around it. And just when she thought it was already too much, she felt his lips at her ear whisper, “Just come on my hand Clarke...I’ve got you….you’re fine” Bellamy says. She squeezes him back lightly near the bulge in his pants and he lightly jerks into her hand. Bellamy was stroking her firmly now “Yea...come against my hand Clarke” and that was all she needed to hear. He was thrusting into her with two fingers now in and out. She broke, coming hard and fast on his fingers, wetting his palm entirely. 

“Clarke..you are so fucking hot” he huffs. Bellamy couldn’t help himself; he lifted a finger to his mouth to taste her. Her fingers curl around his ear, and then her mouth is on his jaw, tracing over the rough stubble and if he had known that this would happen tonight he would have shaved. They both simultaneously pause as they silently acknowledge this line that they’ve already crossed, already in this too deep to turn around. He hesitates, a hand hovering by her waist. He wants to do more. He really wants more. Clarke is tired of running from this, tired of dancing around what they mean to each other. She slides her hands up his chest, around the back of his neck, and roughly pulls him down to her for a long thorough kiss. His hesitation is gone, both hands are on her hips as he pushes her further up the wall. “Don’t think Bellamy just do,” she leans up in his arms again and brings her thumb to his brow line, “I promise tomorrow there won’t be any hiding, I won’t run” her hands fall to his own, she quickly is lifting her dress up higher around her hips. Bellamy feels Clarke undo the button on his pants, sliding his boxers past his hips. He lifts her up that much higher to get her closer to his groin. She dips her fingers into the parentheses of his mouth, sweeps them up the bridge of his nose, swipes the pads of her fingers across his scrunched forehead like she is trying to mutually feel his pleasure through the soft touch. He nudges a leg in between her knees. It’s a little awkward because his pants are only halfway down his buttocks. They both simultaneously laugh, their laughter subsides to soft chuckles as he settles against her, her heart picking up speed at the feel of his skin flush with hers. Are they really doing this? She can’t believe they have taken it this far.She cannot believe they are about to cross this line. 

“I need you Bellamy” she slides her hand up over his hip, pressing her hand into his growing erection. She wants to bring him back to the reality of the moment because she can tell he is a little frozen with fear. She needs him to know this is what she has wanted for forever. 

“I can’t believe we are doing this Clarke” Bellamy replies. He puts his forehead against her own and takes a deep breath. She shifts back, taking his hand with her, unwilling to sever that connection just yet, grasping him in her hand and easing him into her. She forces herself to take it slow, to savor this because they only get one first time. He fills her, wholly and completely, the stretch of her inner muscles against him is a delicious burn. She rocks against him experimentally and outright revels in the sound of their moans mingling in the space between them. “I saw you watching me dance….it was turning me on...so fucking bad Bellamy” Clarke breathes out through her nostrils. She wants him to know she knew he was watching her. 

“I don’t think you understand how important you are to me Clarke” Bellamy responds back to her. “Then show me” they move together after that, rocking and pitching their hips in a glorious point and counterpoint. He disentangles his hand from hers but she can’t handle the loss when both his hands begin roaming over her skin, starting at her knees, moving up to press his fingers into her hips, sailing up her stomach to cup her breasts in his hands, drag his thumbs over her nipples. She cries out, overwhelmed at the range of sensations she is feeling, she can’t help but think that this is exactly what she was wanting earlier today thinking about coming out tonight. She didn’t know it would quite end up like this with them wrapped around one another making love in a club. But it was along the same lines. He is moving in and out of her at a crushingly maddening speed. This feels so good she wants to cry. 

“Clarke?” he questions, completely halting the movement of his hips, the sudden lack of friction drawing a growl of frustration from her. Shit, did she say something out loud? She’s threatened death in jest before but right now, if he doesn’t get moving again, she might actually kill him. She attempts to roll her hips but his hands are holding her still, the look on his face making it obvious that she has to explain herself before they will continue on. 

“Did you say what I think you just said?” Bellamy whispers. He withdraws almost completely out of her. “Please say it again” he demands, slamming himself back into her, hard. He is thrusting into her at such a fast pace. She clasps her hands around his head holding onto him for dear life. She can feel his legs start to shake and tremble. Her own are starting to spasm. This is delicious torture, every nerve ending is firing at the same time. “Bell…” she gasps. 

She comes apart, his name leaving her lips on a loud moan the roiling chaos of the orgasm crashing through her wave after wave of delicious pleasure. The music in the background is still pulsing through her veins. Her back bows, her body curling in on itself as if it’s trying to trap the feeling there forever. Her fingernails dig into his flesh, looking for an anchor in this storm she is weathering. “Say it again Clarke” Bellamy insists unrelentingly, still pushing into her chasing his own orgasm now. 

She feels his chest rumble under her hands, distantly hearing him groaning something that might be her name, his body shuddering inside of her. Unless that’s her shuddering. She’s not really sure where he ends and she begins right now. No man has ever made her feel this much for this long. Bellamy’s hands are on her face now, brushing back her hair, swiping moisture over her cheek with his thumb. Oh shit, is she crying? 

“Hey, it’s ok..hey...hey..Clarke it’s alright” he states nervously with the utmost concern evident in his voice. “No, they are happy tears” is all she manages to say when another shock wave wracks her body. He threads his hands in her hair, his fingers brushing the back of her neck. “I’m scared to say it again” she shakes and quivers in his arms. She knows what she must have said out loud in the heat of the moment for it to affect him this much. But she knows she doesn’t want to take that back either. She meant what she said with all her heart. She needs to be brave and tell him the truth. 

“Let me hear the words Clarke.” Bellamy is kissing her again, swiping his tongue in her mouth unwilling to lose any form of contact with her. He releases her mouth with a loud pop pushing his face into her own, lightly stroking his nose against hers. “You’re so beautiful Clarke” Bellamy emotionally states. 

“I love you,” Clarke says softly. Her tears were threatening her eyes once more. She lunges forward, grips his shoulders, and crushes him to her. He hugs her back just as fiercely, cradling the back of her skull. “I love you too Clarke” he says with so much emotion behind the words he has trouble breathing. He knows he is crying. She is crying. They have been dancing around this thing between them for far too long. It only took a little liquid courage to force this whole thing into motion. Bellamy bends down and pulls up his jeans and finally zips them. 

“This is The. Best. Night. Ever” Bellamy says gruffly around a tearful laugh. He can hear Clarke laugh into the side of his neck as he buttons them up. She put her lips against his cheek finally nuzzling into the spot near his neck that had become her safe place. She was moving her fingers across his back repetitively. They slowly danced in circles when the next song came on. They were both finally on the same page, nothing could be more romantic as when two soulmates are dancing to the sound of melodic jazz music that pours from the speakers of a seedy dance party. 

“Dancing is a verbal expression of a horizontal desire.”-Robert Frost.


End file.
